This is No Game
by Indy Croft
Summary: While searching for a college professor, an accident causes intriguing problems for Jimmy, Lois, Clark, and a new friend.
1. Default Chapter

            This is No Game

            Copyright: 2003

            Disclaimer:  Most of the characters in this story do not belong to me.  They are the property of their respected owners on television and in the movies (I would name the companies specifically if I knew them).  I am not making money off of this; it is merely a past time and an attempt to throw those romantic ideals of chivalry and adventure into this very boring realm known as reality.

            This story is dedicated to Tara Farrago, who's diligent editing and honest opinion of this work have kept me motivated enough to continue with it.  As most of her stories, which I believe are much better than my own, have always been an inspiration to me, I hope that this story will help provide inspiration for her in time.  Thanks for all your help and never let your muse leave your side, Jenna.

            It was an average day at the Planet.  People moved around the news room with coffee and doughnuts, chatting about the latest stories to be published.  Sun filtered in through the windows, signifying another warm but beautiful day in the late spring season in Metropolis.  Laughter rang out at varying degrees, and every so often Perry White's voice boomed from wall to wall, either calling people to his office, or calling for certain jobs to get done and done quickly.  

            It was just an average day at the Planet.

            For everyone except Jimmy.

            He sat at his desk with a dejected look, tussled hair, and darkening circles under his brown eyes.  The weekend had been a nightmare for him, and Mondays were never fun, anyway.  He didn't want to reflect on the past days events, but he couldn't focus his strung out mind on his work.  Friday slowly rolled past his eyes again.

It was the day God chose him for comic relief.  An off day, it was, from the moment he rolled out of bed and woke with a start on the floor, and then it just went downhill from there.  Eight rolls of film were exposed in development, leaving the headlines without any decent photos.  He'd run into three different people, each with a hot cup of coffee in hand that happened to spill on him somewhere.  His computer crashed in the middle of his research on a college professor who had recently disappeared from Metropolis University, leaving Lois Lane and Clark Kent, his best friends and work associates without information to look up; and what a better thing to come home to after a hard day's work than a broken in apartment.  So the weekend started off without a TV, computer, or the few pieces of jewelry his mother had given him over the years.

            Saturday seemed to start off well enough, until he went to Best Buy to look into a new computer and got jumped by the police who mistook him for a murderer on the most wanted list.  When the whole ordeal was finally cleared, and Jimmy able to prove his identity, he was released back to his motorcycle, which had miraculously blown a tire out all on it's own in the parking lot.  Another few hours and a few tens shorter, Jimmy finally got home, without his computer that he lost interest in buying, to find a message on his answering machine.  His father, Jack, who was supposed to come in for a week and visit, had to cancel due to "a collapsing building with his construction company, and the need to go into overtime to get back on schedule."  Jimmy knew this wasn't the case, as Jack's real job had nothing to do with collapsing buildings.  The photographer had gained a better understanding of his father's frequent absences when he learned he worked for the NIA, but it didn't make the disappointment go away. 

            On Sunday Jimmy stepped back into bachelorhood after a five month relationship, the longest one he had ever managed to keep.  Jeannette returned to Metropolis from her three week vacation with her family in California, and she came back with an old high school flame.  Jimmy wasn't so much hurt by her sudden loss of interest in him as he was by the boy who had replaced him.  He was tall, gangly, and had more of a resemblance to a chia pet than a normal human being.  And to be told at the airport, on the day she came back, instead of over the phone, or at least without that ape by her side, practically kicked the air right out of him.  When it began to downpour on his ride back to his now incredibly lonely apartment, Jimmy smiled without mirth and realized that it was the perfect end to a perfect weekend.

            So that was why, Monday morning, when everyone was carrying on with their average workday, Jimmy was tired, worn out, stressed out, and hating everything.  He'd never felt so out of touch with himself.  Part of him was so angry with his father and Jeannette for leaving him, and another part was just too drained out to care.  

            Lois sat lightly on the corner of his desk, making Jimmy jump slightly.  "Sorry, Jimmy," she replied with a smile.  "Didn't mean to scare you."  Her smile fell into a look of a concern.  "You look awful.  Have a rough weekend?"

            Jimmy scoffed inwardly as he realized rough put it mildly.  But Lois' presence and genuine concern for his well being touched him as he remembered that he did have friends who cared about him.  It was still took a bit of adjusting for him to get used to Lois' new and friendly attitude since her marriage to Clark, which he couldn't have been happier to see happen.  The two were made for each other.  There was a small twang in is heart as he thought of Jeannette.  Forcing her from his mind with a mental shake, he smiled lightly.  "Yeah, you could say that."

            "Anything I can do?"

            His smile grew.  "Give me a new life?" he joked.

            And that was where the problem started.

            Clark was just returning to his desk, adjusting his tie along the way, after cleaning up an oil spill in Washington State.  It had taken a little longer than he expected, but as always, Lois covered him when he couldn't cover himself.  His heart jumped a bit at the thought of her, and he chuckled to himself.  Married for four months, and still he couldn't seem to think about her without feeling like a giddy teenager.  The super reporter noticed her at Jimmy's desk, and he moved over to join the conversation.

            "Give me a new life?" Jimmy joked.

            Lois shook her head as Clark spoke up.

            "Now that's an optimistic way to start the week."  When the young photographer looked up at him, Clark was startled by his appearance.  "Wow, Jimmy that must have been one heck of a party!"

            "Yeah, one the police got involved in… repeatedly." 

            "What happened?" Clark asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

            Jimmy shook his head.  "Let's just say things didn't go as planned this weekend.  At all."

            Realization dawned on Clark.  "Jack couldn't make it in?"

            "Another building collapsed, and he had to go into overtime," Jimmy replied flatly.

            Both reporters knew what that meant and their smiles fell.  "I'm sure he'll make arrangements to visit another time."

            "Yeah."

            Jack's arrival reminded Lois of something else.  "Hey, how's Jeannette?  She was supposed to come back last night, right?"

            Jimmy shrugged his shoulders.  "Fine, I guess."

            Lois and Clark looked at each other.  The young man's tone suggested otherwise, and his closed off posture clearly said keep out.  So Lois decided to change the subject.  "Well, Jim," she caught his attention with a bright tone, "I don't know about getting you a new life, but we could certainly use some extra help on our new assignment Perry just informed me of."  She moved her gaze between the two men as she spoke.  "Dr. Havsta was found in the Museum of Ancient History last night by two patrolling guards.  He was holding some type of ancient jar that he had removed from one of the cases."

            "Stealing it?" Jimmy piped in.

            "The guards aren't sure.  When they approached him, they said he looked frightened and lost, and tried to get away.  They managed to stop him and calm him down enough to talk with him.  Now here's the strange thing.  Most of the staff and patrol police knew Dr. Havsta very well, as he brought many of his classes to the museums for projects and lessons, and he helped with deciphering artifacts that came in.

            "But apparently, last night, Dr. Havsta claimed he wasn't Dr. Havsta, but a man named Godwin, and he swears he is a knight loyal to the Dark Lord."

            Jimmy and Clark looked at her with raised eyes.  

"A follower of Satan?" Clark asked

            "They honestly don't know what he meant," Lois replied, "but the guards noticed he spoke differently, with a thick accent they couldn't place, but guess as European.  Then as they tried to take him away and see about getting him some help, he fought them off with a sword he pulled from a nearby exhibit, knocked them both out, and was gone when they awoke.  The jar and sword were gone as well."

            "So now we're going to track him down?" Jimmy asked.

            "And find out what's so important about that jar," Lois confirmed.

            "Great, what do you want me to do?"

            Lois put a sheet in front of Jimmy.  "Here's a description of the jar.  Think you could pull up some information for us?"

            Jimmy's eager smile fell into a flat line.  "My computer's still on the blitz.  But," he said with a light tone, "I could go over and see what I can get out of some of the employees at the museum."

            "That works," Lois nodded.

            "And you and I will go over to University to see if anything new has come up?" Clark asked.

            "That's what I had in mind."

            "Then let's push off, shall we?"

            Bones, artifacts, gems and rocks.  These were the pride of the Museum of Ancient History.  As on most days, the museum was alive with tourists and students of various grades.  Jimmy went to the information and gave his name, stating he was researching a story for the Planet.  The raven haired receptionist with light brown eyes behind thin wire-rimmed glasses was instantly responsive, whether because she knew of the story Lane and Kent were writing on Dr. Havsta, or because Jimmy flashed his most award winning smile.  She gave him a small badge that clarified him as part of the media and showed him the way to where Dr. Havsta had been found.  

            Jimmy wasn't surprised to find the area closed off, due to "construction" as the yellow tape read.  The room was spacious, with various statues and mannequins representing different times, ranging from Chinese warriors of the early centuries of BC, to knights of medieval, one with a sword missing from his stiff hand, to soldiers of World War II.  There was scaffolding that lead up to some type of mock monument that Jimmy couldn't clarify.  As his gaze followed the wooden structure to the top, he realized the ceiling went up about two stories to a crystal domed window that let rays of sun reflect and glint around various parts of the room, casting shadows in all the right places to give the room an air of mystique.  

            "Is there anything you hope to find?" the receptionist, Amanda Caldwell, asked politely.  She seemed inclined to stick around, and Jimmy didn't really mind.  

            "Anything that may help us find Dr. Havsta, or Godwin, or whoever he is."

            Amanda shook her head.  "I don't understand what that was all about.  Dr. Havsta was born and raised in Indiana, and has no relations to anyone in Europe.  And as far as I know, he's had no lessons in sword play."

            "You heard about that?" Jimmy questioned as he moved around.

            "We all did."

            Jimmy nodded then pulled out a folded piece of paper.  He opened it and handed it to her.  "Can you tell me anything about this jar he had been holding?"

            "Ah, this.  It's actually not a jar, but an urn.  It came from the druid room.  Archeologists haven't really been able to figure its purpose, but their best guesses from the markings were that it was used to hold the ashes of sacrificed warriors to be used in magic spells."  She gave him the paper back.  "Rumor has it the urn was found right around Stonehenge."

            "Was Dr. Havsta researching something about this for a class or a side project?"  
            Amanda shrugged and gave an apologetic smile.  "I couldn't tell you."

            "You wouldn't happen to have any pictures on file of the urn, would you?"         

            She frowned.  "Off the top of my head, I'm not sure.  But I can check if you'd like."

            Jimmy smiled at her.  "I'd like that very much."

            "Ok."  She was about to turn away when she remembered something.  "Oh!  Oh, I don't think I can leave you alone here.  This area is off limits, and if anything turns up mis-"

            "Are you calling me a thief?" Jimmy asked playfully.

            "Oh, no, I didn't say that," Amanda blushed slightly.  "It's just the museum rules…"

            "Don't worry, Miss Caldwell, I'm not gonna take anything.  Except a few pictures, perhaps," he reassured her with a lift of the camera in his bag.  "Besides, I won't tell if you won't."

            She nodded.  "Ok, I won't be gone long," and with another small smile, she briskly walked out of the area.

            Jimmy watched her leave with a quirky grin on his face.  She was cute and peppy, and he took only a moment to wonder-

            _Thump._

            Jimmy froze, and looked around the room.  Nothing seemed out of place, and no one else had entered the room from his side.  Quietly, he moved closer to the half built monument and pressed himself against a wooden beam.  As he peeked around to find nothing on the opposite end of the room, there was another thump, softer this time, and a bit of dust and wood chips rained upon his head.  His eyes drifted up and he thought he saw a shadow move between the cracks.

            'Got ya.'

            Stepping softly and moving as silently as possible, Jimmy slung the camera behind him and began the climb up.  The closer he came, the more clearly he could hear mumbling, soft but panicked.   Carefully, he pulled himself to the top and looked into a hollow area of the monument, that was high enough for a grown man to stand, large enough to move around freely, and was hidden from sight below.  

            Pacing back and forth in the middle was Dr. Havsta.  He looked no older than 40, with black hair that was tinted with frost; a little over 6 foot he stood, and he was broad in the shoulders, but didn't look much like a fighter.  A simple light brown jacket over a red checkered shirt and blue jeans over black boots made up his dress.  At his side, a sword with a smear of dried blood was swinging from his right hand, and a round gold and blue object that was about two feet in height and maybe a foot around was firmly gripped in his left.  Jimmy knew without having to guess that it was the urn.

"The empress.  The empress and that witch planned this one me, damn their magic," he muttered angrily, his voice thick and rough, in an accent the photographer couldn't discern.  

            Jimmy wasn't sure what to do; he was tempted to speak to the doctor, but he was worried of the sharp bladed sword, and the man's mentality.  He had openly attacked those two guards the night before, and if he chose to do the same to Jimmy, the only place to go was down.  

            The photographer's choice was made for him, however, when the unstable looking man turned suddenly in his pacing, and noticed Jimmy for the first time.  Immediately, he lifted his sword in the air, the urn placed protectively behind him, his legs poised for attack.  As soon as his eyes focused on Jimmy's face, his own mouth fell in shock and his eyes widened.  Stance loosening slowly, he shook his head then smiled cruelly.

            "Well, well, well, what have we here?  Your little whore of a witch decided to get rid of you, too?  Guess she found someone better in the bars."

            Jimmy's eyes also widened, and he raised his hands up in defense.  "Whoa, wait a minute, I think you're slightly confused, Dr. Havsta-"

            "You trying to play mind games with me, too?" the man spat.  He looked Jimmy over with a disdain filled eye.  "Changing your clothes and playing dumb won't trick me again!  I won't have any of it!  Get us back, or we'll both die here!"

            So confused was the Planet employee that he found himself at a loss for words and could do nothing but stand in silent shock.  The doctor was clearly out of his mind, or was possessed by something.  And now, with the sword inching closer as the crazed man closed in on him, Jimmy realized he was only backing himself toward the edge of the scaffolding.  He had to think fast, or he was done for.

            "Look, I don't know you, but if you let me, I'll help you in anyway I can.  But you need to put the sword down and trust me."

            "The only thief you can trust is a dead one!"  He cornered Jimmy at the last board of the scaffolding.  "Looks like you've reached the end of the plank."  A sickeningly insane grin stretched across his face.  "I've waited too long for this."  The sword was raised over his head, threatening Jimmy with a very unpleasant end.  "Fair well, hero!"

            A bright flash from the camera blinded the haggard warrior temporarily, and Jimmy took the opportunity to rush him.  Knocking the sword from his hand, he pushed the older man into a beam of the scaffolding causing it to shake slightly, and punched him hard across the face.  Blood ran from the 'doctor's' split lip, and the jar clattered to their feet.  Instantly, Jimmy was kicked in the stomach and thrown across the alcove.  He got to his knees and tried to sweep his opponent, but his defense moves obviously couldn't compare to the well trained moves of the older man.  In moments, Jimmy was groaning from a punch that nearly knocked him out, and in that dazed moment, the sword that was so deftly wielded left a long gash in his side.  Jimmy cried out and stumbled back, only keeping himself standing by leaning his weight against another support beam that held up the top of the monument.  

            Breath heavy and eyes slightly blurred with pain, he watched his executioner approach.  "Who—do you think I am?" he panted out.

            "A dead man," the swordsman replied, his tone deep and vengeful.  The sword swung down in an arc of silver straight to Jimmy's neck, which at the last moment, rolled with the rest of him out of the way.  So much force was put into the killing blow that the wooden beam was sliced in half, and the roof of plaster and wood of the monument came crashing down right through the middle of the scaffolding.  A slow creak was the only warning both men received before the rest of the platform collapsed without the extra support.  

            Jimmy remembered forcing himself into a roll to dodge the sword.  Remembered knocking over the urn and dust flying into his face; there was the crash of the roofing, the creak and then he remembered screaming, remembered feeling his stomach turning as he felt nothing beneath him, remembered the wood splint piercing his already wounded side, and his head striking something very hard.

            Then Jimmy Olsen remembered nothing at all.

            Lois and Clark arrived at the museum just as a young woman with long black hair and brown eyes, was making her way around her desk, a number of papers in hand.  Apparently she was so involved in her task that she didn't notice the two reporters until she practically ran into them.  Slightly startled, she gave a shy smile and greeted them.

            "Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologized.  "Can I help you?"

            "Good morning.  I'm Lois Lane with the Daily Planet, and this is my partner-"

            "Clark Kent!  Oh, good morning.  I'm Amanda Caldwell.  You must be here to see Mr. Olsen.  He's in the back taking pictures, I was just about to take these to him," she continued as she held up the papers, "if you'd like to join me."

            "What are those?" Lois asked as she followed behind the quick paced receptionist.

            "Pictures of the urn Dr. Havsta had in hand last night.  I'm sure you'd heard of it?" 

            "Yes, but we don't have much information on it," Clark answered.  

            "Well, like I told Mr. Olsen, it was used durin-"

            A terrible crash echoed from the end of the passageway, and many occupants of the museum jumped or yelped in surprise as their attention all turned to the back.  Amanda, instinctively knowing where the crash had come from, took off at a run, Lois and Clark on her heels.  They pushed through the crowd that began to amass near the construction sight, and turned the corner into the room just as the rest of the scaffolding collapsed.  Amanda yelled and cowered away, while Clark shielded Lois from whatever debris that may have fallen near them.  In a moment the dust began to settle, and they could begin to see the disaster the room had become.

            The monument that was in the works now looked torn down the middle, the front and top half of it a heap of wood, plaster, and sawdust all over the floor of the museum.  Metal pipes and broken beams stuck out from the wreck.

"Mr. Olsen!" Amanda yelled out when her voice returned to her, and she hurried over to the wreck.  She coughed and waved at the dust in her face.  "Mr. Ols-"  A scream escaped her before she could stop it.  "Oh, no!" 

Lois was at her side in a moment, her breath also catching in her throat.  Laying in between two heavy blocks of wood, was her co-worker, with a nasty gash at the back of his head that bled profusely

            "I'm going to call 911!" Clark exclaimed and ran out of the room.

            "Jimmy?" Lois called out to her friend, who was terribly pale and looked like he was barely breathing.  The wooden pieces lying across his chest were probably crushing him.  "Superman!" Lois yelled as loud as she could.  

In a blur of blue and red he was there, and surveying the scene.  Both women moved to the side, Amanda gripping Lois' arm to keep herself from collapsing.  They watched as he lifted up the blocks the pinned Jimmy down, and Lois immediately noticed the crestfallen look on Superman's face as he knelt forward to examine his wounded friend.

"What is it?" she asked and stepped forward.

"Ms. Caldwell," Superman spoke to Amanda softly but firmly.  "Bring the paramedics back here.  Hurry!"

Tears began to shine in her eyes when she heard the desperation in the super hero's voice, and she all too well understood that things were not good.  She nodded and quickly ran off to meet the ambulance.  Now alone, Lois stepped forward, determined to know what condition her friend was in.

"Lois-" Clark tried to stop her, but she had come too close.

"No."  She gasped at the blood covered piece of wood sticking up through the side of Jimmy's stomach.  "Can you do anything?"

Superman shook his head.  "I'm afraid if I try to move him, or remove the wood, it'll tear the wound more."

"Can't you use your heat vision to seal the wound?"

"If it only pierced his skin, yes, but I can't heal torn organs.  It's better to let the paramedics do it."  

"He's going to make it," Lois whispered to her husband, but she couldn't keep the doubt from her voice.  

Clark looked over Jimmy's body again.  It looked like two cracked ribs, one broken, the gash on his head, and the torn side, and possibly a sprained ankle.  If not for the amount of blood loss, Superman may have had a better feeling of Jimmy pulling through.  

"Do you think it was sabotage?" Lois asked as she removed her blazer, wrapped it in a ball, and pressed it to the young man's head to try and staunch the wound.  

Superman's lips went into a tight line.  "No.  No, I think Jimmy was up at the top, or else he would have been under the heap, instead of between it."  Superman's eyes went up to the ceiling, looking at the half collapsed monument.  "But what were you doing up there?"

Amanda ran around the corner with four men and a stretcher.  Superman helped in anyway he could, but couldn't do much as he, Lois, and Amanda watched the unconscious photographer be wheeled out of the room and rushed to Metropolis General.  The concern for their friend was so great, that even Superman with his sensitive hearing didn't notice the shadowed figure limp his way out of the room through a back exit.

The light was too bright in his eyes.  He rolled onto his side to block the rays, and groaned when his head throbbed.  'Aw, man, what did I do to myself now?'  His mind drew a blank, and he tried to force his eyes open.  Slowly, as the dark colors of the world around him came into focus, Jimmy became very concerned.  These were not the familiar shapes and contours of his room.  This room was large, spacious, had hanging paintings and beautiful oak furniture.  His eyes gazed down to the sheets he was covered in, though he couldn't see the sheets because they were covered in such heavy furs; warm, soft, animal skins of various killed beasts.  Jimmy gazed in confusion and lifted himself on one elbow, twisting his body a bit to get a better look at the rest of the room.  There was a small table in the center with what looked like freshly picked fruit and baked goods on top, and a fireplace with a dead fire barely smoldering beyond that.  A doorway led off to another small room or a closet, and to the far left he noticed two glass doors leading outside.  The sun's beams came reflecting through the glass right into his line of sight, making his head pound more, and again he turned away.  He groaned lightly, kept his eyes shut tight and let himself lay back down.

'Where am I?' he thought to himself.  Again he tried to remember what happened…

Then something brushed against his waist.  He stiffened and his eyes flew open.  Slowly he turned to see a thick wave of brown hair cascading into his shoulder, and a slim arm resting gently on his bare torso.  There was a soft moan before he felt this other person slide up closer to him, whispering something that sounded like his name.  It didn't take a genius to know that his companion was female, and that she wasn't exactly clothed.  Jimmy frowned then peeked under the sheets at himself.  He gaped. 

'Where are _my clothes?!' he thought frantically.  He was frozen to the bed, eyes wide and breath coming in unevenly.  What had he gotten himself into now?  What did he do…_

The scaffolding collapsed.  Dr. Havsta had cut him with his sword.  Jimmy had fallen…

The photographer suddenly remembered in a rush the monument at the museum, and himself landing hard on a piece of wood.  Jimmy grimaced as he remembered the pain that wracked through his body just before he passed out.  But he didn't feel anything now.  Carefully, he moved his companion's arm just enough to look at his side and pressed his hand to the wound that wasn't there.  In fact, it looked like it had never existed.  How was that possible?  Wait a minute.  His stomach looked…

            A soft knock came from the door, and again Jimmy froze.  'Aw, now what?'  The knock came again, this time with a little more force.  But before he could do anything, his companion rolled over slightly.  Jimmy caught his first glimpse of her full face, and his breath caught.

            "Yes?" she answered, slightly annoyed.

            "I'm sorry to bother you, Lady, but breakfast has begun, and your friends are awaiting your arrival."

            She rubbed her nose.  "All right, I shall be along shortly."  She then yawned, stretched, and pressed herself a little closer to Jimmy's side.  She kissed his shoulder then sighed.  "It's too early for this."

            Jimmy didn't know what to do.  He was flattered by the attention, but she must have believed him to be someone else.  And he was indeed getting embarrassed by the precarious situation he was in.  He had no clue where he was, or how he got there, or what exactly had happened between the two of them in that time.

            She then moved again and suddenly rolled out of the sheets, now leaving her bare back to him.  "Oh, a hero's job is never done, is it?" she asked with a stretch before rising to her feet and pulling a robe from a nearby chair.

            Jimmy quickly averted his eyes, but couldn't help the blush that was spreading through his cheeks.  He listened to her walk over to the far side of the room, where the doorway led off to another small area.  Water was splashed around and things shifted before she came back into the room, rubbing a towel over her face.

            "Well, are you getting out of bed or not?"

            Jimmy's jaw had to a work itself for a moment before words actually formed on his tongue.  "I-I, uh, yeah-"

            She rolled her eyes at him before picking up a pile of clothes at the base of the bed and throwing them at him.  "You are totally useless in the morning.  I'll inform everyone that you went for a walk before the morning meal."  Her eyebrows raised a bit more.  "Maybe you should do that, actually.  Bring some life into you."  She moved over to a closet and pulled out a light violet dress.  Quickly she walked over to him and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.  "Hurry and get dressed.  I'll meet you in the hall."  Granting him one last heart warming smile, she disappeared into another room that he hadn't noticed before and closed the door with a soft click.

            Jimmy took only another minute to himself to try and come to grips with what just happened.  Everything was happening in a rush, and was getting more confusing by the moment.  Now, not only did he want to know where he was, he wanted to know who he was, and who that stunning woman was that obviously had close relations with him.  It took him a minute to realize the thought of her was the first thing that made him smile that morning.

            'What are you doing?!  Get up and find out where you are!'

            Jimmy snapped out of his little daze and looked at the clothes in front of him.  'Oh, yeah, getting dressed would be good.'  He lifted up the heavy black material.  It looked like a leather jacket with silver buttons along the front, and silver cuffs along the shoulders, down the arms, and to a set of attached black gloves.  A white shirt that was a material rougher than cotton he picked up next and black leather pants finished the ensemble.

            These were definitely not the clothes he was wearing at the museum.  But they were clothes, and they would do.  He slipped out of the warm covers and shivered a bit at the sudden temperature drop.  Quickly he reached for the breeches and began pulling them on.  As he was adjusting the two belts at the waist, his hands slowed, and he looked a little closer at them.

            "What?" he muttered to himself.  The skin of his hands were darker than he remembered, and they looked callused, like they had been through rough work for many years.  Swiftly his eyes moved up his arms, which seemed bigger than yesterday, and down his washboard stomach, all the while his eyes widening in disbelief.  He stepped back in shock of himself, and caught movement to the side.  With a jump, he looked up into a full length mirror he hadn't noticed before.

            It took everything he had to pick his jaw up from the floor.

            In the space of a few short hours, he looked like he had aged a few more years, and aged nicely.  Gone were the fleshy parts of his stomach and arms that made him look boyishly cute; instead, his body looked lean and toned and built up in all the right places without appearing bulky.  And his face… Jimmy was drawn closer to the mirror as he looked at the person before him that he recognized but didn't.  His jaw line was now defined and his cheekbones a little more narrow.  His brown hair looked the same, if not a little longer in the front, and with a slightly lighter shade.  But his eyes were what caught him the most.  Gazing back at himself, Jimmy was stunned at the maturity he saw in those eyes.  While still holding the warmth the photographer always carried in himself, he couldn't deny that his gaze seemed harder, if not colder, and there was definitely not the look of the young hope-to-be reporter that Jimmy Olsen was.

            He was gazing back into the eyes of a steeled man.

            Jimmy tore his gaze away and tried to steady his breathing.  Again he looked at the clothes on the bed, and in a slight daze he finished dressing, all the while questions continuing to race through his mind.  What was going on?  How did he change so much?  Where was he?  How would he get back?  Could he get back?

            Did he have anything for his feet?

            Jimmy let himself be momentarily distracted from his dilemma as he looked for something in the way of shoes.  After a moment of searching, he found a pair of leather black boots near the table with the breads that suddenly appealed to him.  When completely dressed, he broke off a piece of a darker roll and bit into it, munching with content at the sweet taste that filled his mouth.

            'At least the food is good.  Food!'  He remembered that he needed to go down for breakfast.  Appetite sinking away as apprehension grew, Jimmy tried to ease his discomfort by thinking of the beautiful woman he was going to meet.  A smile, small but warm, spread across his face, and he hoped that in the end everything would turn out all right.  But he couldn't hide in the room forever.  Once more he looked at his reflection and was again stunned at how good he looked in the black outfit.  Dashing, savvy, and definitely not a look he was familiar with, but he could get used to.  With a brush of fingers through his thick brown hair and a deep breath, he crossed the room and exited out into the hall.


	2. Party Favors

Lois met Clark at the end of the hall leading to Jimmy's room. "They said he hasn't woken up yet, but the surgery went well enough," she said softly. "He lost a lot of blood, as you already know, and his head injury…"   
  
"It could have caused serious problems?" Clark finished gently.  
  
Lois nodded, but when she looked up at her husband, her eyes were slightly bright with determination. "But that's only worse case scenario. For all we know, he's perfectly fine. He just needs to wake up." She smiled lightly then nodded her head at him. "How did everything go with you?"  
  
"Lumber truck crashed on the freeway. Major car pile up. Two casualties, and a few serious injuries, but we were able to stop the fire before it spread out of control," he answered briefly while escorting her to Jimmy's room. They stopped at the door and looked in through the slim door window. Both could see the young man lying on the bed, wrapped in bandages and hooked up to a respirator to regulate his breathing. What surprised them most was to see his head moving slowly, his partially opened eyes taking in the room around him.   
  
"He's awake!" Lois exclaimed happily.  
  
Clark pushed the door open and stepped inside, greeting his friend warmly. "Hey, Jimmy!" Lois moved to Jimmy's left while Clark stood at the right, taking in the sight of the thick bandage around the photographer's head and a large purple bruise on his chin. "How are you feeling buddy?"  
  
His head moved slowly, and his eyes had a glazed, distant look when he gazed at both reporters. At first his jaw worked like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, his eyes roamed around, taking in the respirator, the tubes going into his arms, the individuals walking past the partially open door. All the while, he said nothing, just stared and digested, though the unfocused look in his eyes made him appear young and lost, perhaps even a little frightened.   
  
Clark noticed almost immediately. There was something about the way he looked at Clark that made the journalist feel uncomfortable. It was there when he first looked at the mild-mannered superhero; the uncertainty in his eyes, kind of like he didn't recognize where he was or who was with him. Carefully, Jimmy turned his head to look at Lois and blink once or twice.   
  
"Welcome back, Jimmy," she said warmly.  
  
A frown crossed his face. "Whe-where am…" he asked, and winced slightly at his rough voice.  
  
"Metropolis General. Do you remember what happened?" Clark replied.  
  
Jimmy seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes open. "I'm tired… why?"  
  
"The painkillers. They were necessary after the surgery."  
  
The photographer's eyes widened, and he silently mouthed "surgery" before he began to get up. "No," he denied hoarsely and began pulling at the IV in his arm.  
  
"No, Jimmy, lay back down," Clark insisted, pressing his hands against the boy's shoulders while Lois tried to still his hands. As they were settling him down, the nurse entered to take vitals, and immediately took over the situation. Pulling a needle from a side cabinet, she injected a clear liquid into the IV back. Jimmy's struggles eventually ceased, and he slowly drifted back to sleep.  
  
"What happened?" Nurse Thatcher asked while checking him over.  
  
"He was awake and aware, and then we mentioned the surgery and he became agitated," Lois answered.  
  
The nurse nodded. "That's understandable. Sometimes the narcotics cause adverse side affects like distortion of thoughts and images. He'll be fine when the drugs work out of his system." She finished with the vitals and made her way out, mentioning she'd have the doctor check on him shortly. Lois and Clark shared a look as they, too, stepped from the room and began making their way out of the hospital.  
  
"Did that seem odd to you?" Lois spoke up when they reached the car.  
  
"What?"  
  
"They way he looked around, and looked at us. He seemed… I don't know… more lost than anything."  
  
Clark sighed. "Yeah, he did seem a bit out there. But, he's on a lot of meds right now, Lois, and they're probably just causing side affects like the nurse mentioned."  
  
Lois started the Jeep and pulled out into traffic. "I suppose. Well, what do you want to do next?"  
  
"Do you have that information on the urn from the receptionist?"  
  
"Research it is."  
  
Upon exiting the room, he met a stone hallway with high arches, tapestries hanging in yards of skilled weavings, and streams of colored sunlight flowing through stained glass windows. Jimmy immediately likened the place to an English castle, and his breath left him in awe of the magnitude of the building. Servants in various colored dresses carried baskets of food, clothing, and other trinkets; they brushed by him, some not noticing him, others giving him highly suggestive smiles and winks. Most of the people who occupied the passageway seemed headed in a certain direction, toward a large set of doors that were held open by heavy blocks of wood. Instinct suggested him to follow the crowd, and without hesitation he stepped through the doors.  
  
What breath he had left him in a rush as he took in the scene before him. The room was massive, easily comparable to the length of a football field, and the ceiling stretched on toward the sky. Fires roared happily against the far walls, placed perhaps twenty feet from each other, and in the very center of the room were a circle of long tables covered from end to end in appealing foods that beckoned him with their succulent scents. From some unknown place, the high notes of a flute accompanied by the lively tune of a fiddle danced into his ears over the continuous and blended chatter of the guests.   
  
Moving forward into the crowd, he took in everyone's apparel. Leathers, tight fitting bodices, yards of silk, brilliant colors, flashy jewelry, swords, daggers, and whips met his amazed eyes. Some looked as properly dressed as nobles, while others wore clothing as simple as that of a farmer. The clash of class and society was dazzling, and Jimmy found himself listening with fascination to snippets of conversation as he passed through the masses.  
  
"…a crazy notion, indeed! Whoever heard of a contraption that could fly? Impossible, I say!"  
  
"…the Empress is said to be making new laws for commoners to hold official positions in the council…"  
  
"… I hear he's quite the adventurer. Too bad he's taken…"  
  
"Can I offer you a drink, my lord?"  
  
Jimmy turned to the sweet voice to find a young girl of 17 or so, with two braids of strawberry blonde hair falling down the sides of her pale pink dress that so generously showed off her... curves. A blush started to creep into his cheeks as he attempted to keep his eyes focused on her blue eyes while she pulled a goblet from the small wooden platter she carried over her left shoulder.  
  
"Uh… thanks," Jimmy stuttered as he took the cup from her, smiling when she winked and strutted away. The liquid was clear in the copper goblet, and had no scent. With a shrug, Jimmy took a sip and nearly choked himself when a hand slap to his back almost threw him into his cup.  
  
"Ha ha ha, the Savior has finally arrived!" a loud voice bellowed. Jimmy turned, still coughing his lungs back into place, and didn't see anyone. 'Okay…' "We were beginning to wonder if that party last night was too much for you!" The photographer's eyes traveled down, to where a little man, no taller than 4 feet, with bright red hair and a long red beard smiled up at him. Chain mail covered his broad body that looked strong and pudgy at the same time, and the cloth beneath the armor look somewhat formal, though it seemed to have food stains all over it. Heavy black boots on stubby feet and a large axe tucked around his expanded waist finished the ensemble.  
  
"Uh, yeah, it was a great time-last night," Jimmy played along. "But I think I had too much to drink, because I don't remember any of it!"   
  
The short Scottish looking man frowned at him. "Are you admitting you can't hold your ale?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The man scoffed. "Some hero." But he grabbed Jimmy's gloved hand and began pulling him toward the food. "Come on, I'll give you the highlights."  
  
"Can we get some food first?" Jimmy inquired, though his empty stomach was soon forgotten as three beautiful and busty women pointed at him and giggled, smiling all the while and showing off their wares. It took a few moments for the love stuck photographer to realize the short guy was talking to him, and he only picked up the end of the sentence.  
  
"…rumors they'll attack within the next week."  
  
"What?"  
  
But the little man's reply was cut off by a blare of trumpets. Immediately the room quieted, and all eyes turned toward the large wooden doors, and up to the balcony that extended over the crowds. Dressed in an elegant gown of gold with a diamond crown and a gold scepter in hand stood a woman no older than 18. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun and her pale skin light up against the morning sun. Power and grace radiated from her in waves.  
  
She raised her hands and opened her mouth to speak when a terrible crash caused a wave of panic among the masses. All heads turned as one to gaze with trepidation at the group of men who slowly entered the room through the now smashed doors leading out to the balcony; upon their red-eyed, winged black horses they trotted slowly, almost lazily, into the grand hall. They totaled seven, the first three being black skinned with white hair, their dark colors nearly blending them into their horses. A more human taste touched the other three, but they appeared no less threatening with swords and knives glinting from their belts and a case of arrows slung behind each of their backs.   
  
In the middle, a tall and well built man sat comfortably on his steed. Hair of midnight color flowed down his back in silken waves, blue eyes burned brightly into everyone that dared to look upon them, and both these features were made so much more noticeable by his powder white skin. If not for the rise and fall of his armored chest, one might look upon him as a recently deceased victim. White teeth suddenly appeared behind faded lips when a smile graced the crowd.  
  
"Good morning, fellow warriors and maidens a like," he greeted grandly in a voice rich of sarcastic politeness. "A lovely party, indeed, Your Highness. You've outdone yourself, truly." He laughed slightly.   
  
"You know you are unwelcome here, Ashavon. Your pathetic assassins and drows cannot outdo my knights. You are outnumbered here." The young Empress' voice rang out solid and deep; no room for argument was permitted, and no space for doubt could be found. "If you have any wish to continue living, I suggest you leave immediately."  
  
Ashavon laughed in reply. "Now, now, my dear, there's no need to call out your cavalry. I came here merely with an offer."  
  
"No."  
  
"You haven't even heard the proposal."  
  
"And I have no interest to."  
  
With a cluck of his tongue, he reprimanded her. "You women are so quick to have your independence. Tell me, empress, what can you truly do for your people without a male figure to lead?"  
  
Even from afar, the blaze of anger was seen in her eyes. "You question my authority in front of the people I have set free from the slavery of tradition? You dare to imply that I haven't the power to rule my land and fend off any foe?"  
  
"Of course not," the shady male lied back smoothly. "I just humbly ask to take your hand and guide you into true leadership; mold you into the most powerful empress ever seen by Izmer, or any other kingdom." His smiled became wolfish. "For the good of your people, of course."  
  
"Of course," she snapped bitterly, "for the good of the people. And what good have you done for your people, my Lordship? Force them into work most aren't fit enough to do? Pillage your lands to make heavy your purse? Torture and kill those most loyal to you for a slip up? I have heard the stories, and will not allow such tyranny in my kingdom." Her voice grew in volume and strength as she continued. "You are a disgrace, Ashavon, nothing more than a vengeful little boy pretending to be a man. And a boy is not fit to rule a stable, let alone a kingdom. You bring shame upon yourself, and you will not bring such filth to my empire or my people!"  
  
"So much for trying to talk sense into a teenaged whore," the enraged Lord snarled back. "And I could not bring as much as disgrace to your people as you will, the day you willingly give your lands over to me! I will see you on your knees, Highness, and on that day, Izmer will fall just as quickly! Mark my words!" From his belt he pulled a long knife with a blade weaved like ocean waves, and he threw it into a nearby shield that bestowed the empress' dragon symbol engraved in the wood. With that, the seven men fled from the room, their beasts flying high over the tallest buildings to disappear into the blazing sun.   
  
There was a pause, a moment of recollection and concerned thoughts, and then a loud voice broke the silence in an encouraging cheer. "Long live the Empress, protector of us all, to the very death!"  
  
The crowd went wild with patriotism, clearly helping the young ruler to relax after the confrontation. When the cries calmed, she extended her thanks to those loyal to her, and promised to take care of everyone in her kingdom with every power she could spare. She then wished for the party to continue and the guests to take their fill of the festivities. Another cheer rose as she departed.  
  
Jimmy watched her leave, shifted his gaze to the sky now empty of the threatening warriors then looked down to his drink. 'Either I'm losing my mind… or this is some really strong stuff.' He looked down at the little man who seemed to glow with dislike. The idea of questioning aloud his own sanity crossed Jimmy's mind, but another voice cut him off.  
  
"I'm sorry to call on you," a young servant boy, no older than twelve, and bright in eyes and cheeks said to him, "but her Ladyship wishes to see you. Now."  
  
Jimmy stared at the boy for a moment, unsure of what to say. The shorter man must have seen the hesitation in his face, so he slapped him on the back again, startling Jimmy for a second time with the force of the blow.  
  
"Well, get going!" he bellowed. "Don't keep her highness waiting, and same with me. Come back down and give me all the details." An odd, perhaps sardonic smile lit up his red cheeks. "I've been itchin' for a good battle, and it looks one'll be coming straight this way."  
  
"Battle?" Jimmy questioned before turning to the boy. "Is that what she wants to see me about?"  
  
By a shake of his head, the young servant replied in the negative. "I don't know, my Lord, but your presence is expected immediately." With that, the boy turned and headed toward a side door not so crowded by the guests, and Jimmy found himself with no choice but to follow. 


End file.
